


What We Become in the Shadows [HIATUS -- NOT ABANDONED!]

by Jackie_Gaytona



Series: In The Shadows [3]
Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, tags will be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24804706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackie_Gaytona/pseuds/Jackie_Gaytona
Summary: Our favourite vampire-familiar couple now have to figure out how to actually be a couple!Nandor tries in vain to not be a himboGuillermo discovers some unnerving things about his vampire-slaying ancestryPart 3 of my "In the Shadows" series.
Relationships: Guillermo/Nandor the Relentless (What We Do in the Shadows TV), Laszlo Cravensworth/Nadja
Series: In The Shadows [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771906
Comments: 18
Kudos: 88





	1. Prologue - Shoody Doody Doo!

**Author's Note:**

> I legit wasn't planning on starting this for months yet. I figured people were probably sick of me and I should take a break from the series BUT apparently I still can't focus on anything except this series...so for now, here is a prologue!

[ ](https://ibb.co/h9jPzHn)

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**PROLOGUE**

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The man had looked like Guillermo from a distance: similar height, similar body shape, same dark hair, brown sweater. But after closing in on him, Nandor realised he was all wrong. His shoulders were broader, he was a little taller, and his hair heavier; it hung from his scalp in waves and covered his ears. The brown sweater was unfamiliar, too.

Of course, Nandor hadn’t _truly_ believed it was Guillermo. His scent had given it away long before his appearance had. This man was a virgin. However **,** a small, niggly part of Nandor’s brain had been clinging on to any tiny thread of hope since his familiar disappeared. The rare phone call, an unexpected knock at the door, a passer-by in a tawny overcoat – Nandor was looking for Guillermo in everything. Expecting him to just show up on the doorstep one night, safe and sound. But it had been two months. Two agonisingly slow months.

Each night he wandered the streets of Staten Island with Shaddow, hunting for both his food and his lover. He had no idea where Guillermo could have fled to, so he visited the places he thought were most likely to hide him: bars, supermarkets, the park. His first outing with Shaddow had taught him that dogs were not allowed in most public buildings. So now the cane corso had to sit outside and wait for him when he did his indoor searches. But he was a loyal dog, and never wandered far. He missed Guillermo, too. They’d had no luck tonight, like every night before. All possible leads had led to dead ends, leaving Nandor feeling dejected. He had to feed.

He kept up the man’s brisk pace as he stalked through the park, cape flapping behind him, hair bouncing against the gentle breeze. He could smell apprehension on his dinner like a bitter cologne. The hiker knew he was being followed. Nandor caught sight of icy blue eyes in the corner of his periphery; eyes that were set within a low silhouette that weaved and bounded between sycamores and willows. Shaddow had caught another scent and was trotting ahead, keeping to the woods that lined the concrete path. Occasionally he’d let out a huff, and the human would startle and yelp.

_He is a coward like Guillermo_ , Nandor thought petulantly, his eyes on the prize. _A coward who ran off and left me all by myself_. It was far less painful to focus on the resentment and ignore the heartache. Over seven-hundred years old, and Nandor had never felt time slow down like this; nor had he ever felt so many conflicting emotions at once. So much _worry_. Up until a few months ago he couldn’t have even recalled a time he’d felt grief. But then, Guillermo…

_Coward!_ his mind growled. _He has the balls of a eunuch. That’s Guillermo. Now I have to do everything myself. Dress myself. Brush my hair. Catch my own food._

His anger compelled him to walk faster, which in turn made his victim speed up. Nandor was thirsty. The night before, he had run out of time to hunt. Shaddow had caught a scent and they’d followed it in circles until the early hours of the morning. Nandor had returned home with an empty stomach an hour before sunrise, dragged himself up the stairs, and curled up beneath Guillermo’s blankets – the ones that still smelled like him.

Now he was starving, and his prey was within arm’s reach, flickering in and out of sight as they both passed beneath the shadows of trees. Yet some inexplicable force was keeping Nandor from pouncing on him. Some part of him wanted to see where this man was headed; find out why he was out here alone so late at night. And that struck him as odd, because he usually didn’t give two shits about who his victims were and what they’d been doing up to the point of their deaths.

Still, he followed.

There was little light on this end of the park, which made it perfect hunting grounds. Nandor could drain his victims unseen and dump them down the ravine, or prop them up in the trees, and leave without being noticed by anyone else. It was also a great place to find young, horny virgins, who used the cover of darkness to make out. He always appreciated a two-for-one deal, as Guillermo used to put it. His dinner tonight had been alone, but he smelled delicious. Very virginal. The clean aroma wafted off of him with the breeze, tainted only by the awkward unease one gets when they think they’re being followed.

Nandor clenched and unclenched his fists, fighting with his head, trying to build up the resolve to attack. Why was this so _hard_? It couldn’t be because the man vaguely resembled his old familiar – Nandor often found himself feeding on Guillermo lookalikes. No, something else was causing him to resist; something outside of his own will. This man was leading him somewhere.

Something cracked in the trees, and a low growl issued forth from the darkness. This made the man jump, and then – much to Nandor’s surprise – spin around to point a finger at the vampire.

“I _know_ you’re following me,” he said in a loud, shaky voice.

Nandor grimaced. He didn’t look _anything_ like Guillermo. He didn’t even wear glasses. Disgusting.

“What do you want?” the stranger demanded. “M-money? Is that it?” He reached into his pocket with a trembling hand and produced his wallet. “Here, take--”

Suddenly the man was gone, leaving the echo of a scream behind.

A blur filled his place for a fraction of a second – a giant, hulking shape the colour of mocha – and then there was just the path and the darkness ahead. But there was a flurry of movement beside him, and once Nandor’s brain had caught up, he turned to watch the scene unfolding beneath the canopy of a huge willow. His dinner was on his back, alternating between screaming and gargling up blood. Ribbons of grey and pink erupted from a gaping hole in his abdomen and embellished the shrubs and branches of nearby trees. His sweater was in threads; it was no longer brown but a dark crimson.

Shaddow kept way back, hunched low to the ground and snarling, only his eyes visible in the dark.

The monster tore at the dying man’s body with teeth like the blades of flick-knives. Muscles rippled beneath its clotted fur as it ate, giving the illusion of things crawling just under its skin. Even hunched, it was taller than Nandor. Its thick, long tail was as long as his arm, and it swished contentedly as the thing slurped and sucked at its dinner. At _Nandor’s_ dinner.

The vampire screwed his face up. “Fucking _werewolf_ ,” he hissed.

The creature’s ears flattened back against its head and it straightened a little, lumbering to its feet in order to face its unwelcome guest. Alert, golden eyes fixed onto Nandor’s. There was something oddly familiar about those eyes, but he dismissed the thought before he could dwell on it. All werewolves looked the same.

“That was _my_ fucking dinner!” he yelled, jabbing a finger at the gutted body. “We had a truce! Vampires don’t kill werewolves. Werewolves keep out of vampire’s shit. Well, you are standing in my shit, right there!”

The werewolf bared its fangs and _roared_. Nandor was hit with a spate of bloody spittle. He stood his ground, fists clenched at his sides, until the creature approached. Only when it stood to full height did Nandor realise just how tall and _hulking_ the thing was. It towered over him, eyes blazing, lips set back in a snarl.

“ _Ohhh_ _shit_ ,” he uttered.

And the werewolf lunged.

Nandor shrieked and leapt away, shouting, “Bat!”

A moment later he was in his tiny chiropteran form, frantically flapping away and squeaking. He was vaguely aware of Shaddow galloping after him far below, yapping loudly. The werewolf hadn’t bothered following, presumably too occupied with its pilfered dinner to worry about pesky vampires and their pets.

Once a safe distance away, Nandor turned back into his human form and met Shaddow beneath a streetlamp.

“Fucking _werewolf_!” he growled, and stomped his foot.

Shaddow was wagging his tail frantically, yelping and bouncing around in circles. He looked incredibly happy. Nandor glared at him.

“No food for _me_ means no food for _you_ ,” he reminded the dog. Guillermo had always bought the dogfood. Now that he was gone, his corso lived on the vampires’ scraps. Laszlo and Nadja would no doubt have body parts waiting for him tonight, but Nandor wouldn’t give Shaddow the satisfaction of knowing that.

The black dog kept on dancing around his new master, puffing out his cheeks and snorting gaily.

“Did you get bitten by the werewolf?” Nandor asked suspiciously. “Why are you acting like this, Shaddow? Do you have the rabies?”

And then the dog was gone, sprinting back the way he’d come.

“Wha—Shaddow!” Nandor yelled. “Get back here! I’m not chasing you around the city again! Shaddow!” He gave an annoyed growl and kicked at a rock on the pavement in anger. Now Shaddow had abandoned him, too!

He didn’t feel like hunting anymore. Not without Shaddow by his side. But he had to eat. So Nandor dropped his shoulders and shuffled his way further into the city, to haunt the dark alleys and find some easy kills.


	2. In a phrase to cut these lips...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nandor is a dumbass. Some feels are shared in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music Inspiration: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ojasq626CgQ

Sex was nice. The feeling of being a part of someone, even just for a short time. The intimacy of it all; the closeness. The heat of it, the sweat, the senses picking up every infinitesimal sound and scent and touch. The primordial urge; that moment of sweet release that oscillated between the delicate pillars of life and death; its own otherworldly sensation. That pure bliss, a complete absence of human fear, as fleeting as it was.

Yes, sex was nice.

But what Guillermo _really_ cherished were the moments before, when he would gently bind Nandor’s wrists to the bedhead, all the while trying to ignore the vampire’s bothersome nips at his neck. When they’d kiss fervently, almost violently, as though they could be separated at any moment. As though they didn’t have all the time in the world. Or when they showered each other in soft pecks, with just enough pressure to ignite the nerves and cause frustration. The agony of fingertips drifting gently over every inch of skin but the one part that needed it most. And occasionally, when the mood struck Nandor, just simply lying in bed; Guillermo wrapped around his master’s prone figure, circling his navel with a fingertip; Nandor running a hand gently through his familiar’s hair while he told him stories from his past, both of them painfully craving each other but at the same time revelling in the torture of delaying their lovemaking.

Tonight, Nandor had subtly beckoned to Guillermo as Laszlo and Nadja left to hunt. He had followed him up the stairs and immediately they’d collapsed on the bed, not even stopping to close the door. Guillermo loved the weight of Nandor on him while they kissed; it made him feel secure, safe, despite playing inches away from sharp, bloodthirsty fangs. Their hands roamed each other’s bodies, aimlessly searching. They breathed in each other’s scents, tasted each other’s skin, savoured each other’s quiet groans and growls. They were still fully clothed, but their desire for one another was apparent underneath the layers of fabric. Guillermo was so hard it hurt. But he could never get tired of this sweet ache; only tormented by it. And that torment alone was as sweet as release itself.

It had been just over two months since that night Guillermo had lost his virginity. For some reason he had committed the date to memory. He had always expected Nandor to have an unrelenting sex drive, so he was surprised that the vampire seemed content to take things slow. They spent most nights together in Guillermo’s bedroom, but Nandor was yet to stay a full night, always slinking away sometime after midnight. Some nights Guillermo would don his familiar persona and put Nandor to bed just as he had for the past eleven years – the difference being that he now kissed his master goodnight.

He still hadn’t experienced Nandor inside of him, nor had he experienced the vampire’s mouth on his cock; though he enjoyed pleasuring Nandor in this way, and Nandor really seemed to enjoy it. The dynamics of their relationship right now were confusing – Nandor enjoyed being a bottom, yet he had resolutely avoided the act of kneeling before his lover and taking him in his mouth. Guillermo figured he wasn’t ready to be _that_ subservient yet.

There was also the small issue of Nandor having to be tied up. It restricted their lovemaking, and Guillermo missed his master’s hands when they coupled. It had become something of a routine – there was an unspoken moment during their foreplay when they both decided it was time to secure the vampire in order to keep Guillermo safe.

The rope was sitting on the bedside table by the bottle of lube. Guillermo didn’t bother hiding it anymore. On the off-chance one of the other vampires wandered into his room, well…they surely knew what was going on already. The house’s walls weren’t very thick. Guillermo grabbed the well-knit cords and distractedly tied Nandor to the bedhead, lost in thought.

“Something is bothering you,” Nandor said as Guillermo finished the last knot and shuffled back on his knees. His face was stern, brow furrowed, which Guillermo had come to recognise as a look of concern.

He adjusted his glasses self-consciously. “I just think that maybe…maybe we could try without the restraints tonight? We can stop any time; I just want to feel your hands. Maybe try something new.” He was speaking hurriedly, feeling like an idiot. He should have spoken _before_ he’d gone and tied up the vampire.

He waited for Nandor’s reaction, expecting to be told as much. Instead, the vampire pressed his back against the bedhead and flung his fists into the air, tearing the binds with ease. The dropped to the mattress pathetically.

“You mean like this?” he asked, grinning.

Guillermo gaped at him. “Y-you…what!?” He tried to comprehend what had just happened. “How did you…!?” His eyes shot from Nandor to the broken ropes and back again. Suddenly his cheeks went red. “Were you playing me this whole time?” he shrieked.

“I thought you liked it!” Nandor retorted.

“You could have broken free at any time…” Guillermo trailed off, his head spinning.

Nandor leaned forward conspiratorially. “Between you and me, I really could not break free the first time. But after that, you started tying the knots all wrong.” He leaned back and shrugged before resting his hands under his head, propped up against the bedhead.

Guillermo stared at him in disbelief. “Did you keep this a secret so _I’d_ have to do all the work?”

“Like I said, I thought you liked it.” Nandor’s grin returned, showing his fangs. Fangs that could have killed him at any point during their lovemaking but didn’t. Nandor had exercised a lot of self-control, Guillermo realised. He tried not to let the warm, fuzzy feelings in his belly cloud his judgement.

“When were you going to tell me about this?”

Nandor looked a little less smug now. He hesitated. “Err. Soon?”

Guillermo took a deep breath, calming himself. “Did you like it?” His voice was quiet, almost shy. He met Nandor’s eyes, and something in them made him freeze. He gazed at his master, horrified. “Oh my god,” he breathed.

“Guillermo!” Nandor scolded, straightening up.

“You were testing me,” Guillermo said, realisation sinking in. “You weren’t trying to protect me. You were protecting _yourself_.”

“You’re talking in silly riddles, Guillermo,” Nandor said dismissively, but he tore his eyes away from his familiar, replicating the expression that Shaddow gave him when he was feeling guilty.

Guillermo didn’t know what to think. His brain was suddenly a scrambled mess, his chest whirring with a flock of emotions. “You m-made yourself seem weaker.” The words stumbled out of his mouth shakily. “You wanted to see if I’d hurt you. If I’d attack you when you couldn’t defend yourself. You…you don’t trust me.”

“I trust you now,” Nandor said, as casually as if he were discussing which blouse to wear. “You didn’t kill me.”

“Two months!” Guillermo cried.

“I thought you liked it, so I rolled with it!” Nandor matched his tone, suddenly defensive.

“Why did you think I’d hurt you?” He felt tears threatening, and he quickly sniffed them down.

“You sleep next to a stake,” the vampire explained. “You prance around killing vampires in your free time—”

“I do it to protect you!”

“—You almost stabbed me to death when I tried to ask you out on a date!”

“I thought you were an intruder!” Guillermo shouted. He was breathing heavily, still straddling Nandor. Sweat had broken out along his brow and his stomach roiled sickeningly. Nandor’s face had that stern quality to it again. He sat up fully, shifting Guillermo with him so that his familiar was now in his lap, their chests almost touching, faces close.

“Guillermo.” Nandor’s voice was serious. “You are _scary_ to vampires. Not to me, of course. I am a very brave and masculine warrior. But I have seen the way Laszlo and Nadja look at you sometimes. Like they think you might stab them with one of those _stakes_ at any moment. Or spray them with holy water. Or--”

“You’re afraid of me?” Guillermo interrupted.

Nandor bristled. “That is not what I said!”

“You think I’m going to kill you.”

“No! It was…just a precaution. You are very kinky, Guillermo.”

Guillermo rolled his eyes.

“And what if killing vampires is one of your kinky things?”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Almost twelve years as a familiar…now he had finally stepped up to almost-boyfriend status, and his immortal, sharp-toothed vampiric lover thought he was _dangerous_? Guillermo tried to sort through his emotions, but his head was in a frenzy. He was angry, yes. Furious. But he also felt a smidgeon of sympathy and warmth for Nandor; the vampire had shown time and time again that he was _not_ the brave warrior he presumably once was. And between these strong emotions, Guillermo also felt a little bit of pride. That he was able to invoke _fear,_ from one of the world’s most venerated supernatural beings, was playing havoc with what little ego he had.

He was mostly upset, though; hurt by the vampire’s deception. _How can he not trust me?_ he asked himself. Another part of his brain answered, _you didn’t trust him either. That’s why you tied him up. You were both just looking out for yourselves…_

“Guillermo?” Nandor called lightly, watching his face with a wariness that made Guillermo even more distressed. “Say something, Guillermo. You look like you’re about to kill a vampire or someth--- _Gaaah_!”

Guillermo hurled himself at Nandor, catching his cheeks in his palms and crushing their lips together. Nandor seemed to sag with relief underneath him, and Guillermo felt such a rush of power, of _control_ , and he knew he shouldn’t enjoy such feelings but he did. As he sucked and nipped at Nandor’s lips he felt more confident than he had in a long time. His agitation faded to the back of his heart and was replaced with a need…a need for Nandor to know that after all these years, after everything they’d been through together, that he…he…

Guillermo pulled away, his hands still cupping the vampire’s cheeks, his thumbs absently roving over his cool skin. He was unable to tear away from those deep, dark eyes. His lungs and heart felt too big for his chest. He was anxious with need.

Yes, the sex was nice. But Guillermo needed something more. Something concrete. Something in his eyes seemed to startle Nandor just then, because the vampire pulled his head back, frowning a little.

“Guillermo?” he said at length.

“I love you,” Guillermo sighed. He didn’t wait for Nandor’s reply. He was too afraid. He leaned in and kissed him again, his heart in his throat. Nandor responded with a matching passion, and the fact that the vampire hadn’t pulled away and fled made Guillermo giddy. He grinned against Nandor’s mouth, and then pulled away to look at his lover.

His heart dropped when he saw his face. Nandor was grimacing, looking at him with a flighty caution, teeth clenched, fangs bared. He looked incredibly uncomfortable. They stayed frozen for what seemed like ages, just staring at each other. The air was thick with tension by the time Nandor spoke.

“Guillermo,” he said carefully. “I have never spoken those words before. Not to anybody.”

Guillermo was taken aback. “Not even your wives?” he asked. He didn’t really want to bring up Nandor’s ancient family right now, but his curiosity got the better of him.

Nandor’s grimace only deepened. “This concept…of love. It has changed since my life in Al Quolanudar. A warrior’s purpose was to fight, pillage, and have as many strong, handsome babies as possible. There was no time for this… _love_.”

“Wow,” Guillermo breathed. It made sense, really, from what he had learnt about that era. But it was still strangely heartbreaking to hear.

Nandor cleared his throat and looked away, still uncomfortable. “Yes. So. That is why it is difficult for me to say the words. I cannot remember what… _that_ …felt like. If I have ever felt it.” His voice lowered with dismay at the end. Guillermo knew he hated talking about this sort of thing, and suddenly he regretted blurting out those simple yet heavy three words.

“I understand,” he said, forcing a small smile. His cheeks were burning. He was so embarrassed.

“I care about you,” Nandor said quickly, through clenched teeth. Guillermo raised his eyebrows at that. “And I like …this…” The vampire almost sounded constipated as he gestured vaguely to their bodies. Guillermo knew how hard this was for his master to force out. He decided to spare him the chagrin and placed a chaste kiss on his lips to shut him up.

“I like this too,” he said, and this time his smile was genuine.


End file.
